Hell Week
by Evermist23
Summary: Published as one very bad week in the life of Dante. Can be read as oneshots but intended as 7 of 1. 6 Complete so far, will publish seperate Please note: No pairings as yet OC plot devices only , light innuendo, humour. Enjoy. Disclaimer: I own nowt.
1. Miserable Monday

**Monday**

The weekend after a job was always peaceful, but the following week it was back to the daily grind at Devil May Cry. Dante indulged himself with a lie in till ten thirty, reasoning that since he slept in the office anyway, he was saving the time getting into work. Breakfast was a slice of meat feast pizza from the night before, and as he set the percolator running the doorbell went, indicating that business was good, and the cash flow steady.

He sauntered over to the door and opened it, empty mug in one hand, pizza in his mouth and the door in the other. He was half dressed and his white hair was still tousled from what hadn't been a particularly great night's sleep. This was down to the increasing awareness of springs in the chesterfield couch.

"Good morning sir, wonderful day isn't it?" The smile on the man's face was almost as shockingly bright as the light outside. Without giving Dante time to answer, he got to the point of his visit, "But life isn't always as wonderful as it is now. It can turn quite bad, quite quickly, leaving loved ones with a hefty bill for funeral expenses and unpaid bills."

Dante blinked. While the guy surged onwards about his enthusiasm for the "La Vida Life Insurance Plan" he let the image toy with his head. If he were to die on the job, Lady would be so pissed about losing her investment that she'd make it a personal quest to find him and get him to pay up before he could rest in peace. He chewed on the pizza thoughtfully, tuning back in to what the salesman was chatting about.

"So all I need from you now is your signature, and a few details."

"What kind of details?"

"Name, age, occupation, followed by the account you want debited. That way I can give you a direct quote right here, right now." He shoved a pen and paper under Dante's nose. "Please use capital letters only sir, the paperwork is read by a machine." Dante was thinking about putting Lady's bank details down when the shockingly cheerful voice added, "Your occupation is a Devil Hunter, is it? My, that certainly is extraordinary. But sir, if you wouldn't mind," the salesman's smile suddenly became cold, "no false details please."

Dante was stumped. He had never been accused of being a fake before. Actually, being a Devil Hunter always worked to his advantage. Guys wanted to _be_ him, chicks wanted to be _with_ him. Obviously the salesman hadn't a clue what Devil May Cry was all about? And why should he, he was the sort of person who didn't need to know. This guy was Joe Average, right down to the queasy smile and the drab grey suit. Personally, Dante was not a fan of grey anything, but the suit was a prime example.

Having mistaken Dante being half asleep meaning total disinterest (which was not the case, and a man less cynical on the job may have picked up on this) the man moved onto his second attempt to wheedle some cash out of his virtually captive audience.

"So then sir, winter is fast approaching." He managed to look round Dante's frame and into the office cum living room cum bedroom, "It gets awfully cold, awfully chilly, and the price of fuel for heating is getting ever more expensive."

"Really?" He was about as interested in this subject as a five year old in a lecture for advanced maths, "I hadn't noticed. Maybe I should conserve heat by shutting the door?" He tried, but the salesman was determined to make him hear the pitch. He wedged the door with his foot.

"Hear me out sir, I promise it'll be worth your time."

"Pay me for it, and I'll listen." The sound of the percolator hissing its completion was enough to stir Dante's business sense.

"What?"

"Pay me for my time to listen to you. If I have to stand here listening to you, letting precious heat out the door, I think I should be compensated for my effort, don't you?" The way he smiled told the salesman he didn't want to disagree.

"I… uh… it's highly unorthodox."

It was time to sweeten the deal. Dante turned on the persuasion. "Who knows, you may even make a sale. Your commission would cover your costs and everyone would be happy."

"I suppose that would be true." The salesman thought about it, "Yes, alright. Well the best way to keep your heating bill down this year is to have double glazing installed. And we at Winchester Windows think that we offer the lowest quote on the market."

"I thought you work for the La Vida insurance company?"

The insurance man beamed, glad that someone realised he was clever enough to be earning double the cash for half the work. "I do. Unfortunately the pay is lousy so I have two jobs on the same round. Clever, huh?"

"Yeah, clever." echoed Dante, starting to lose interest again. "So is that it?"

"You're not going to buy?" The insurance man looked upset.

"Not this time. Where's my cash?"

The insurance man retrieved his wallet, and from it, a ten. He looked at the bit of paper sadly. "It took me two hours to earn that." He sighed as Dante whipped it out from his fingers. As the door closed, he pottered dejectedly down the steps with his briefcase in hand, and out onto the main street. The salesman of life insurance wondered if it was time to cash in his own policy, while inside, Dante had a phone call to make to Dominos.


	2. Testing Tuesday

**Tuesday**

When the doorbell rang on Tuesday, it was a nice surprise for Dante to find a rather smartly presented woman seeking his attention. In a smart red and black ensemble which showed enough thigh and cleavage to be evocative and yet tasteful. He approved. Though he was actually going to slip off for a shower, he decided he could make the time to entertain her first.

And then he made the mistake of asking her what she wanted. "A moment of your time."

"It'll take longer than that, honey, promise."

The woman pursed her lips at the unwanted innuendo, but otherwise gave no indication that she had heard him, "To ask you about the questionnaire we sent out."

Brightened at the prospect of a double act in the sack, Dante wasted no time in pursuing it. "Who's we? You've got a friend around here? Fine, I'll take you both on, provided she's as hot as you."

"You're mistaken." murmured the woman, as though her patience were wearing thin, "'We' refers to the University of Plymtol. The questionnaire was about healthcare services provided in your area and how frequently you use them and what for."

Dante rubbed the back of his neck, "Well I don't know… never had to use one myself. Guess there's a hospital somewhere in town but I couldn't tell you where. But there is a great café just down the road that does strawberry sundaes to die for if you wanna-"

"How about your GP? Practice nurse? Family planning?"

It was like someone had poured a bucket of ice cold water over him. "Whoa, hold on there a second, you know, we barely even know each other." Dante decided that this chick was going to be more hassle than she was worth.

Drawing the conclusion that her participant in her experiment had not so much as looked at the single sheet of A4, (it was still lying on the floor where the postman had dropped it through the letter box two weeks previous) the woman decided to have a little fun. The Ethics Committee would never approve, of course, but then the Ethics Committee would never need to know. "Any experiences with you or a partner with STDs such as Chlamydia, Herpes, Syphilis or HIV?" Dante decided it was too much. The researcher was a devil in disguise, the worst kind, a woman, beautifully sculpted to look at, but from her tongue was poison.

"I… I… have to go now!" he stuttered, tripping over his own tongue. He slammed the door and lent back against it till he heard the retreat of four inch heels. Inwardly, the woman had won a personal battle, against all mankind who had ever called a frumpy, younger self names. She left Devil May Cry and went to join her girlfriend down the road for a strawberry sundae.


	3. Weary Wednesday

**Wednesday**

On Thursday the doorbell went causing Dante to sit bolt upright on the sofa. The shock made him sweat. He lay himself back down, turning his head to look at the clock. It read 8 am. It was beyond him just who could be calling at such an unsociable hour. He decided not to answer it. Whoever it was rang again, and a third time, before he hauled himself off the sofa that was becoming less and less comfortable.

Whoever it was, they were growing impatient. He could hear them huffing and puffing by the front door. He just put his hand out to open it when the mail flap opened and a happy little voice called through it, "Hello? Anyone home? It's Abon calling!"

Abon. The name rang a bell, but Dante couldn't put his finger on what it was about the name. Something Trish may have mentioned a while back, and he seemed to recall it being a good thing. He decided to open the door.

The woman appeared shocked. "Whoa, I was starting to think no one was in. You nearly missed me. I'm here as a travelling representative of the Abon cosmetics company and my name is-"

Dante had to stop himself from laughing. The woman's voice and manner matched her appearance beyond the point of humour. She spoke quickly, and her voice was not unlike Lady when she had a cold and her sinuses were blocked. To look at she was rather round, with big ears, lank brown hair and pudgy cheeks. Her button nose was rather cute though, and her best feature was easily the bright big eyes that were watching him in almost a timid fashion, as though he were a big bad wolf about to eat her. But perhaps what was easily most striking was her mouth, which had large buck front teeth. If he had spun her round he half expected to find a white fluffy tail, the sort that belongs to a bunny rabbit. The overall effect was rather bizarre, even for him.

The next thing he knew, the representative had produced from seemingly nowhere a rather formidable looking catalogue. The front page was a lotus mid bloom revealing a bottle of what he presumed to be perfume or some such make-up. It struck him just how much this was a Trish thing, but not necessarily something for himself.

The rabbit woman continued, unaware of his musings, "-section just for the new man of the century, containing moisturisers, exfoliations, toners, softening wipes." She gazed at him adoringly for a moment, and for a second Dante thought she was either going to kiss him or drop to her knees to worship him. That could have been embarrassing, but instead she quickly nipped her hand out and touched his cheek. It caught him off guard. He blinked twice.

"Why did you-?"

"Your skin is in such wonderful condition, I don't think you'll need any of those." She continued, albeit with a bit of a blush in her cheeks, "So let's move on. Also in the New Man section we have a range of l'eau de toilettes pour les hommes, from designers like Colin Keln, Tina Sici and Christopher Leor. Prices start from as little as thirty five-"

He cut her off. "Wait? Thirty five? For how much?"

She indicated the size of a 25ml tube. "It comes gift wrapped." She offered, in hopes to placate him.

"Not interested." Said Dante, flatly, and went to close the door. The bunny girl looked like she was about to cry. He couldn't face that.

"At least have the catalogue." She whimpered, offering the offending book forward.

He took it from her, and closed the door, plonking it down on the pool table once the door was closed. The Abon saleswoman retreated, hoping Dante would call the order number, her work number and order something, just so she could speak to him again. But sooner or later that catalogue had to be collected, a legitimate reason to call round again.


	4. Terrifying Thursday

**Thursday**

Dante resolved not to answer the door on Thursday, the hell with the consequences. Having had a nuisance caller a day for the entire week, he was thinking of taking a sick day, except that wouldn't wash with Lady or Trish. Didn't stop him locking the door for once, but as it happened, the only person to call by was Lady, and she found the otherwise fearless Devil Hunter half out the window.

"Dante, what are you doing?" she looked bemused but also wondered exactly what made him bolt so fast out of the office. Having been caught, he looked somewhat sheepish, before strengthening his resolve.

"Ah, hey Lady, I'm… uh, just on my way out."

"I see." She approached the desk, hips swinging, "On business or pleasure?"

He would have answered her, however at that moment the doorbell rang. Dante's face dropped several shades of pale, "It's one of them." He continued climbing out of the window, "Do me a favour, will ya? Stall them, buy me some time!"

"Dante, what the hell's gotten into you?" He hesitated as she turned on her heel back toward the front door as it rang again, deciding on the window or the desk, and decided that if he used the window there was no guarantee Lady would let him back in. In a flash he was back in the run and cowering under the desk like a child in a thunderstorm.

Lady opened the door to a chorus of, "Trick or treat, smell my feet or give me something nice to eat!"

He couldn't see it but Dante could sure hear the mirth in Lady's voice. "Why, if it isn't six little terrors in Halloween costumes? I don't have anything for you but maybe the guy that runs this place-" Dante flinched in his hidey hole, "has something-" and then she added, "inside." With resignation to terror, Dante shut his eyes.

The kids came running in, screaming their delight, and as Dante pictured the crime scene, he shuddered. Still, he didn't move for fear of giving himself away. Demons were no problem. Suits of soul filled armour, a cakewalk. Whatever hell threw at him, he could handle it, and do it with a grin on his face. But this… was possibly more than he could handle.

His thoughts were once again interrupted by the most devilish human he knew. "Are you going to come out from under the desk willingly, or am I gonna have to drag you?" He growled a response. First two hands emerged, followed by forearms, elbows, and then very slowly, cautiously, white hair, ice blue eyes that scanned the horror of destruction wrought on Devil May Cry by six under twelves.

"You knew, didn't you?" he muttered.

"That tonight was Halloween? Sure."

"I hate you." He said flatly.

"I know." She returned. Lady was all smiles and had a look on her face like butter wouldn't melt. To the tiny terrors, she said, "Here he is kids. He may look old and grumpy but I bet he was a whole stash of candy he keeps just for himself around here somewhere!"

Almost in an instant, Dante found himself swarmed by them, all pulling on his clothes, wailing in high pitched little voices about chocolate and sugar sweets. His former partner let him stew in it.

"H… hey, get off me!" he protested, trying to bat them away, but they were having none of it, "I don't have any candy, don't you kids know not to trust strangers?"

"That's Auntie Lady she lives next door to me and my mom, so she's no stranger mister." Said one little boy, lifting up his pumpkin head. "But I have never met you before, so you're a stranger, so I don't believe it when you say you haven't got any candy to give us!"

A chorus of "Yeah!", "You're a liar, mister!" and "Give us all your candy!" in half a dozen squeaky falsettos echoed the sentiment.

"I was just going to the store to-" Dante cut himself short, "Waiiit… did you say Auntie? Lady?" Their eyes met across the room as the six and seven year olds chorused…

"Uh huh!" and then a babble of, "Auntie Lady knows lots of people who hide their sweeties!", "She's taking us all across the city!"and "We love Auntie Lady!"quickly followed.

"Aren't they adorable, Dante?" she was fighting the smile on her face, and losing, as well as battling the laughter that threatened to spill over her voice.

"Yeah, just delightful." A little girl with blond curls, dressed as a skeleton, dropped her green lollypop on his boot. He watched her as she looked up at him, picked up the sweet, feigned to brush it off and put it back in her mouth. She grinned up at him with her one tooth. She couldn't have been more than three, with a rosy round face. But now where the candy had been, left a sticky dark mark on the leather. Dante sighed in resignation. "I want them out of here. This is no place for kids, Lady."

"No, I suppose not." She shrugged. "So I guess you don't have anything at all, huh."

"Nothing but debts, but I don't suppose you want to hand them out to the brats, do you?" For a moment, he looked like he might be surprised, but then Lady shook he head. His hope vanished.

"Come on kids, looks like there's no candy here after all." There was a simultaneous whine, as she ushered them through the door. When the last one had disappeared, Lady seemed to remember something. Dante decided it was safer to keep the desk between him and the unpredictable brunette. He sat back in his usual pose and tried to look like nothing fazed him, not even a brood of little (human) monsters.

He needn't have worried. She looked him straight in the eye, reached into her pocket and put something down on the wooden surface. "Next stop, Auntie Trish's! She'll have lots of goodies for sure!" Lady called out into the night, and the kiddies cheered. Dante looked down at what Lady had left behind. He picked it up; half smiled to himself and unwrapped the red lollipop.


	5. Fustrating Friday

**Friday**

By Friday, Dante had come to realise the inevitable. He looked up at the ceiling from his bed and thought about the week thus far. Monday, with Average Joe, selling life insurance he didn't need and double glazing he couldn't afford. But at least he had earned ten bucks out of the deal.

On Tuesday there had been the Hot Mama from the University who turned out to have commitment issues. Wednesday had brought Bunny Girl from Abon, with her 101 products for soft skin and personal hygiene. She was definitely the most pleasant of his unwelcome visitors so far, but even she wanted cold hard cash. Then the day previous, on Thursday, Lady had shown up with a group of brats from her apartment block and terrorised him witless in the pursuit of sugar treats.

He threw off the duvet, sat up and pondered what Friday would bring him. More trouble, doubtless, but then Dante seemed to be a magnet for trouble, whatever he did. Trouble, he decided, was best faced with caffeine, and or a strawberry sundae. Nobody could feel troubled after a sundae, and he reckoned he knew just the place.

He pulled on clothes which smelt ok, but were lying dishevelled on the floor, reasoning no one would notice the creases once the clothes were actually on them, and by that time, they'd fall out anyway. Dante padded downstairs in barefoot, grabbed some footwear and decided to be out of Devil May Cry by the time trouble came to call. He congratulated himself on his own deviousness. If he wasn't there, nothing could go wrong, right?

Wrong.

Dante opened the door and was promptly attacked by a falling stack of cardboard boxes. Giving a shout of surprise, he tried to close the door again, but the momentum was too much and he ended up trapped, effectively snowed in. "Great, what now?" he huffed.

"Ahh good I was just going to ring the doorbell to see if anyone was in." A rather lean man with a dodgy looking moustache and black overalls on picked his way over the boxes, coming at Dante with a clip board in hand.

Something somewhere was starting to make noises in the boxes, distracting the owner of the office from the approaching delivery man. "What the hell is all this?" He freed his arm and pried open one of the cardboard vessels. Out spewed the contents, about fifty small blue plastic frogs. The frogs, Dante discovered, were singing.

"Oh I know this song; my son learnt it at school!" the delivery man exclaimed. "Sign here please!"

"Not until you tell me what this is?" Dante picked up one of the frogs, and glared, first at it, then at the unwitting and strangely cheerful delivery guy.

The man who would come to be known as Mr Moustache, looked at the frog, and then at Dante. "It appears to be a small plastic blue bath frog, which is singing "'three little speckled frogs'".

"No, really?" he listened to the frog, "Well, who knew?"

For a moment there was silence, and then the delivery man added, "In German."

Dante sank deeper into the delivery, "In German… of course…"

Mr Moustache shoved the clipboard under his nose. "Sign here please, Mr Langdon."

Dante looked up at him, hard as it was through his fringe. "Langdon? No, this is Devil May Cry. The name above the door, as soon as I can be bothered to put it there, will read Mr D Sparda, not D Langdon."

The man looked perplexed, "But you ordered three hundred and fifty million small, blue plastic bath frogs, that sing."

"In German?" Dante raised an eyebrow.

"In German." confirmed Mr Moustache. "To be delivered at this address." He tapped at the paper with his pen first, before he shoved the clipboard back under Dante's nose. "See? This is the delivery office for Froggies Jump High, West Brompton Street, Capulet City, isn't it?"

Dante looked irritably down at the paper, still literally up to his nose in cheap plastic gimmicks and boxes, then back up at the delivery guy, "…no."

"But my sat nav definitely said," the guy scratched the back of his head. His moustache wobbled dangerously, and Dante wondered if it would fall off and get lost amongst the boxes of frogs. Mr Moustache thought about it and went back to the truck, he hit the top of the navigation box a few times, shouted at it, hit it some more and then finally went very pale. He came back to Dante. "Oh. It would seem I made a bit of an error."

Unable to do anything, entrenched by boxes, Dante gave him a withering look. "You don't say?"

"It seems that this is not the delivery office for Froggies Jump High, West Brompton Street after all, and you are not in fact, Mr Langdon, who I have to get to sign my delivery papers." He looked very sheepish, "Uh, sorry about that."

If Dante had enough room to shrug, he would have, but all it came across as was a slight shift in the boxes, "No problem. It's not been the worst I've had to deal with this week, believe me." Dante noticed the man was retreating back to his truck. He readjusted himself so at least his whole face was above the delivery now. "Hey, wait, where are you going?"

"Back to the yard. I've got other deliveries to make, you know."Mr Moustache was just going to up and leave. Dante started thrashing around with his one free arm.

"Hey, aren't you forgetting something? You can't just leave them here? What about me? What about that dude, he'll be wanting his German singing bath frogs, won't he?"

Mr Moustache seemed very pleased that Dante had asked that particular question, he had the answer to it, already to hand. "Don't worry sir, I'm just a depositor. I bring stuff to people. Someone else will pick them up from here and take it to Mr Langdon's offices."

"And when exactly will that be?"

"Oh, some time the middle of next week, I'd expect." Mr Moustache ignored the profanities and shouts of anguish coming from the man ensconced in little blue amphibians of plastic, climbed into his truck, put on his radio and were merrily on his way.

=*=L A T E R=*=

'Pizzit'…

"That picture is priceless, Dante, just priceless." Lady waved the Polaroid back and forth to dry it out faster. He tried to snatch it from her but she nabbed it out of his grasp. "Or at least until you pay off your debt to me, then I might consider letting you have it back."

"Lady," he cooed, trying to get close enough to take it away again, "Be reasonable, babe, how about you give me the picture, and…" he drew in sharp air through his teeth. "I'll give you my whole cut from my next job."

"Hmm…" she seemed to be thinking about it, just as he got within range again, she moved, "No can do. Like I said, this picture is incalculably expensive. Not bad payment for shifting a box of frogs or two."

"Singing boxes of frogs… in German." Now that they were stacked inside Devil May Cry, there didn't seem to be so many of them. "But since when did my shop become somebody's warehouse?" At that moment, the doorbell went. "For once, I'm not here." Replied Dante quickly, and disappeared into the bathroom.

"Sheesh, and since when did I become your doorwoman?" Lady answered the door anyway and didn't pay much attention to the thirty something guy in front of her. "We're not open for business right now, any chance you can call back later?"

"I'm just here to pick something up, that's all." Brown eyes went straight to the Polaroid in her hand. He sort of half smiled and managed to look inside, "Three hundred and fifty million small blue-"

"Plastic bath frogs that sing in German, right?"He shrugged at her, indicating that was in fact what he was after, "Yeah, you better take them before Dante destroys them all. And stop doing business with the delivery company that sent them here, too."

"Got it, Lady." He chuckled, in an oh so familiar voice, and stepped back to let the removal guys take over. Just as she was pondering how the shaggy haired brunette knew who she was, seven delivery guys got inside the door and helped themselves to boxes. She looked outside the door soon after, but the guy was gone.


	6. Spiteful Saturday Weekend Special Pt 1

Author Note

After a very long hiatus, Hell Week returns. Saturday and Sunday are a 2 parter, which I thought was appropriate. I'll try and finish it soon, and having recently been made unemployed, maybe I'll do just that.

Disclaimer

I own nowt. It's just for a bit of fun. At Dante's expense, of course.

**Spiteful Saturday**

The office was clear. Better than waiting a week and a half, to dispose of a shed load of blue singing German frogs - especially with the week Dante was having. But today was Saturday, and that meant that it was the weekend. Time to kick back, relax, and watch the world go by. Maybe go out, see a movie, grab a pizza. It didn't seem like a bad plan. And when the doorbell rang at about four in the afternoon, Dante just _knew_ that it wasn't going to happen.

"Jeez, you look like hell." Scoffed Lady when he opened the door, and she took one look at him. "Actually, knowing you, hell is a walk in the park… you're not still upset about yesterday, are you?"

"Yesterday." Answered Dante flatly, "Yesterday was the icing on the cake." A pause, "What do you want, Lady?"

There was amusement in her eyes he didn't trust. "Well, I've got something for you. A job… of sorts. Well, it pays. And it's easy. And," she purred, "I'd consider it a personal favour."

This was clearly dangerous territory, but Dante was passed caring. "It's Saturday. I don't work Saturdays."

"You're self employed. You work when you have to. And you owe me. So when I come in with a job for you, the words you're looking for are," and she stressed this slowly. "Thank. You."

Sometimes, just sometimes, he really hated that woman. Still gritting his teeth, he ground out, "Thank. You." He retreated back behind his desk, threw himself into the old but comfy chair which threatened to break under such harsh treatment, and slung his feet up on the wood with a thump. He glared at Lady from under his hair and she knew that she really shouldn't push him much further.

"I'm following up a demon, who's scouting out a bunch of potential souls in a neighbourhood not far from here. He serves another master who is trying to rip through and do a little more than sightseeing in the human world. Blood, carnage, the usual."

Dante yawned. "And?"

Lady squirmed, wondering if he was in enough good humour to take the catch. "And… I wanted you to keep an eye on him while he's out and about, engaging in routine activity. Uh…"

"Routine activity?"

She wished he'd let up on the glare already. "Christmas carolling."

"It's not Christmas." Dante dismissed her.

"He doesn't know that." She took a deep breath. "It's this guy, a few unsuspecting humans and you. Tomorrow night. Dressed up like a santa or an elf, you decide."

"No."

"You can't say no."

"I just did. No." Lady pinched the bridge of her nose, and let out a breath of frustration. "But," began Dante, "I'll compromise." She looked at him, listening. "He can call on me. I'll answer the door. And I'll send him back where he came from without leaving the office."

She thought it over. "What about the others?"

He gave her a withering look "You know I don't-"

"You can't kill him in front of them." A moment to think. "They're fundraisers raising money for projects… in keeping with the Christmas spirit… invite us in. I can join the crowd, suggest Devil May Cry, they can come in for mince pies or whatever – I'll provide those. And you can take care of Mr Nasty outside. Everybody wins."

It wasn't pizza and a movie, but it was a plan. And Dante got to wear his own clothes.


End file.
